Of Paper and Words So Sweet
by WalkingWit
Summary: Liesel is intrigued by her history professor, the man with hair like feathers and swampy eyes. Her best friend teases her relentlessly about her little crush.
1. Chapter 1

This came to me whilst scrolling through the liesel x max tag on tumblr and mulling over my own interactions with a lecturer at my university (where I now work, and no, he was never my professor). It will be multi-chapter.

Summary: Liesel is intrigued by her history lecturer, the man with hair like feathers and swampy eyes. Her best friend teases her relentlessly about her little crush.

* * *

She tries to take notes, really, she does. She listens as Professor Max Vandenburg's voice describes Austro-Hungarian Empire. He's too young to be a professor, she thinks. He's at least ten years older than his students, but something about the way he carries himself makes him seem younger and older at the same time.

She feels a sharp elbow to her side and turns slightly to glare at Rudy, her best friend. He was one of the university's finest athletes, a track star here on a scholarship. They met at orientation nearly two years ago and had become inseparable ever since (much to the disappointment of several girls in their year, and Rudy's amusement).

"Pay attention," Rudy hisses. He refuses to let Liesel's grades slip because of a silly little crush. Mrs. Huberman would blame him and call his mother, he's sure of it.

"I am," she mutters back.

"To the lecture, not his finely formed ass," Rudy says under his breath, teasing.

Her cheeks flush and she discreetly sends a swift kick to his shin. Rudy winces a bit and glares at her. She stares at her notebook and grips her pen tightly, and he tries not to laugh at her expression.

Class ends soon enough, and Professor Vandenburg tells them to work on their essays that are due next week. Before Liesel and Rudy can make it out the door (they're practically the last ones out since they sit all the way at the back, up the rows of tables), he stops them.

"Miss Meminger, may I have a word? It's about your last assignment," he says his usual even tone.

Liesel nods, and she lets Rudy know she'll see him at the dining hall later that day. He sends her a wary look, then narrows his eyes at Professor Vandenburg before leaving.

"Was there something wrong?" Liesel asks immediately, worry tingeing her voice.

"Not at all," Professor Vandenburg smiles and Liesel's heart skips a beat.

He sits down at his desk and Liesel at one of the desks across from him. He goes through his worn messenger bag and takes out her report on the rise and fall of the Habsburg Empire.

"In fact, your essay received top marks. I even had Professor Strauss look over it to make sure I wasn't hallucinating," he smiles again, eyes twinkling. He reads silently to himself, and Liesel feels incredibly proud of herself, but wonders why he felt the need to tell her in person.

"Miss Meminger," he starts.

Her palms get sweaty, and she slides them against her jean clad thighs.

"Yes?"

"Have you considered literature as a major?" he asks.

"Literature?" Liesel repeats, confused. Why not history. She was good at history and had been considering it since she's still undeclared.

"Now, I'm sure Professor Strauss would love to have you in the history department, as would I, because you're clearly gifted, but you have a certain way with the written word.

You wrote a historical account but there was more there. You gave your writing life," Professor Vandenburg says earnestly. He looks very young in this moment.

"I recommend you make an appointment with Dean Hermann, as she's head of the literature department. I'm also offering a creative writing class next semester, if you're interested."

"You write?" Liesel asks.

"Not as often as I'd like," he admits. "You'll think about it?"

"Of course. Thank you, Professor," Liesel stands and takes her bag weighted down with texts. She doesn't have all her classes today, but a few of the books are for pleasure and she never knows when she'll catch a moment to sit and read.

Professor Vandenburg eyes her slumped shoulders and stands as well. He takes his messenger bag and holds out his hand. Liesel looks at him quizically.

"You have too many books, let me take some. I'm leaving anyway," he explains.

Liesel nods, a bit dumbstruck, and fishes out two textbooks (History of Art and Statistics) and three books (one a collection of Sartre, Sylvia Plath's Bell Jar, and The Fault in Our Stars), the last of which makes her turn red because she didn't want the handsome professor to think her childish.

"Is this good?" he asks as they leave the classroom and he locks the door.

"Pretty good," Liesel says, her tone stilted.

"I'll have to read it then," he says politely.

Liesel bites the inside of her cheek and the walk is made in companionable silence until both realize they have no idea where they're going.

"Where—" they start at the same time.

He lets out a short laugh and Liesel looks down at her scuffed up shoes.

"Where are you headed, Miss Meminger?" Professor Vandenburg asks.

She wants to say to her dorm room, but she can't be seen walking there with a professor.

"Library," she says instead.

"Of course," he smiles so that the corner of his eyes crinkle and Liesel stares at him for entirely too long, but he doesn't seem to notice.

They don't speak on the way to the library, taking in the sunshine the late fall afternoon offers them. There are leaves on the ground and the trees are nearly bare, but the sky is clear and the sun shines, offering some final weeks of pleasant weather before the incoming winter.

As they walk Liesel goes through her to-do list. Assignments, projects. Call mama and papa. Think about declaring a major. Important things like that. She had been reluctant to even attend Molching University in the first place, content to work in the bookstore in their small town. The city made her nervous at first, but she adjusted. Rudy's friendship and good spirit played a great part in that. She makes a mental note to text Rudy to let him know she was in the library—they could get a head start on their statistics assignment.

She sends a sideways glance to Professor Vandenburg, whose brown eyes look nearly amber in the sunlight. Liesel may even be able to see flecks of green if she got close enough. She won't ever be close enough.

They walk through the double doors of the library, blinking rapidly to get used to the change in brightness. There are students reading and studying, searching for books. Liesel likes the library. It's peaceful.

She finds a table and deposits her bag, and Max hands her her books. She takes them gratefully and his hands ghost over hers and she looks up at him with a small smile.

"Thank you," she says sincerely.

"Don't mention it. See you in class, Miss Meminger," Professor Vandenburn says, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

She thinks she sees him wink at her, but that would mean her imagination has gone wild.

* * *

She doesn't text Rudy. She doesn't do her statistics assignment, either. Instead she tries to lose herself in a book, only to be distracted by thoughts of her professor. He couldn't be a day over 30, she's sure of it. And she's 20, and would it really be so strange? She can tell other girls in their course like Professor Vandenburg, the way they ask him for extra help on assignments and theory. He's kind enough to help, oblivious to their crushes. Rudy rolls his eyes whenever Hannah or Susie or whoever stays behind to speak to him. Liesel says nothing in these instances. She tries to keep her distance because she knows she's nothing but a silly little girl with a crush. He probably has a girlfriend, or a wife, even.

Liesel lets her thoughts stew and she frowns at her book. She just had to take his class, didn't she?

* * *

Rudy is annoyed that she didn't let him know she was in the library, and over breakfast the next day in the dining hall he asks her how he should go about asking Becky Jones on a date. Liesel shrugs and tells him to just be honest, and he wonders aloud what good is it to have a girl best friend if she's no help with the ladies?

Liesel rolls her eyes at him and takes her empty tray, gracefully rising from their table.

"Fine, then. Try to charm her however you like," she says before leaving.

Rudy stabs his scrambled eggs and watches as Liesel leaves, blonde curls bouncing behind her.

* * *

Saturday morning, Liesel finds herself at a cafe just a few blocks from campus. It's blessedly quiet, due to a large portion of the student body being too hungover from last night's celebrations after the football team's win against a rival school. Liesel isn't one for sports. She goes to Rudy's track meets, that's about it. He went to the game with Becky last night, and Liesel assumes it went well since he hasn't called yet.

She sits in a corner, settled at a table rather than the plush couch across from her. She needs to stay focused. She has research to do about the suffragist movement for her women's history class, as well as needing to work on her essay for history.

She scrolls through an article on her laptop while she sips on coffee - black with two sugars - and soft music plays from her headphones. A blueberry muffin remains untouched on the plate next to her laptop, and the plate sits precariously on a stack of books.

Liesel is so immersed in her own little world that she's startled when she looks up to see someone standing in front of her table. She yanks the headphones out of her ears and blinks.

"Sorry?" she says.

It's Professor Vandenburg.

"I said good morning," he gives her a half-smile.

"Oh, good morning, Professor," Liesel says, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Liesel looks around. The cafe is practically empty, with only two other tables occupied. Surely he doesn't want to sit with her.

"No, please, go ahead," she says politely.

Max smiles, a true smile, and sits down across from her. He has a mug of coffee and the newspaper. Liesel eyes it with a small smirk.

"Old school, huh?" she asks.

"Old school for an old man," he grins.

"I didn't mean to call you old, Professor, I'm sorry," Liesel blurts out, worried she offended him.

"It's fine, Meminger. And you can call me Max. We're not on campus. Plus, I'd feel less old," he adds at the end in a wry tone.

"Then call me Liesel," she says.

"Liesel," he tries.

She likes the way he makes her name sound, but instead of smiling she takes a sip of her coffee.

"So, Liesel. You don't happen to be working on the essay for my class, do you?" he asks.

She shakes her head, "Sorry, Pro—Max. That's scheduled for later today."

"You have a schedule," he states.

"My mother is a very…_efficient_ woman," Liesel says by way of explanation.

"Mrs. Meminger sounds like she runs a tight ship."

"Hubermann," Liesel corrects.

"What?" Max looks strange at hearing the name.

"My adoptive parents — the Hubermanns," she says nonchalantly. She's not embarrassed or ashamed of being adopted. The Hubermanns were the foster parents she was placed with when she was nine, after her mother and brother died in a freak train accident. She misses her mother and brother, but she also loves the Hubermanns dearly.

"Hans Hubermann?" Max asks slowly.

"Is my father. How do you…?" Liesel queries.

"I do believe my father was good friends with a Hans Hubermann while he served in Vietnam oh, forty years ago. He told me stories of his accordion playing," Max tries to recall the details.

"My father served in Vietnam. He drives mother crazy with the accordion playing, but she likes it, I know," Liesel says in surprise.

Max's mouth forms a wide, genuine smile.

"I can't believe it," Max brushes his hand over his face, "Dad would've been happy to know his old friend was well. He's well, yes?"

"Very well," Liesel confirms, "Your father…"

"Died a few years ago," Max nods, smile fading.

"I'm sorry. My mom died when I was nine, my brother too. Not Rosa, but my real mother."

"I'm sorry," he says.

Liesel gets a far away look on her face, one mirrored by Max, as they sit in the cafe in silence. Her coffee goes cold and he stares off into the distance, brow furrowed ever so slightly.

The door of the café chimes, signaling another customer. It draws them both out of their trances. Liesel pulls the nubby sleeves of her sweater over her palms and grips her mug tightly. She takes a sip, making a face at the cold liquid that hits her throat.

"Has it gone cold?" Max asks her.

She nods, moving her laptop aside to stand.

"I'll get it," he takes the mug from her easily.

Liesel opens her mouth to protest.

"It's the least I can do to thank you for letting me sit at your table," Max says with a gentle smile, "how do you take it?"

"Black, two sugars," she says, a bit dumbstruck.

He disappears and returns minutes later. Liesel thanks him and silently thanks the café for the free refills. She wouldn't feel right letting him pay for her coffee.

They sit in silence. Liesel pops the ear buds back into her ears and lets her study mix play as background noise. Max reads the paper, then takes out a stack of papers and a blue pen. He always grades with a blue pen, Liesel notes, since red is too harsh. They sit in companionable silence, her writing her essay and him grading papers. It's peaceful, almost domestic. Liesel pushes the thought of domesticity from her mind. That's silly. They were two grown up acquaintances (friends, maybe?) sharing a table and doing their work, nothing else.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think. As I said, this will be a multi-chapter.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your kind and encouraging reviews! You have no idea how much I appreciate the fact people read, follow, review, etc.**

* * *

Liesel sits in the nook in front of the bay window, her legs curled under her and a book in her lap. She loves being home from university every other weekend. She lugged her laundry to the train station and was picked up by Hans at the train station. Every time, she'd run into his arms though it had been only two weeks since she'd seen him, and just a day since last speaking.

Rosa greeted her at the door, as always, and told her she is getting too thin, which is a regular critique. Liesel rolled her eyes, as always, and kissed her mama on the cheek before going upstairs to her room to deposit her bag of schoolwork before going to the laundry room to sort through her clothes.

With the laundry in the wash, she sits in the hallway, in the nook. Her head rests against the wall and she reads, lost in the pages. It's one of the books she left at home. She can't possibly fit all of her books in the small dorm room she shares with Sarah Dixon. Since she goes home regularly, she alternates. Her bookshelves at the Hubermann residence are overflowing, and she has a stack neatly arranged under her bed.

Her attention is diverted when she hears Rosa's voice carry upstairs, telling her dinner is ready.

"Coming," she calls, uncurling from her comfortable spot.

She pads downstairs and sits down in her usual spot at the kitchen table, Hans already seated and Rosa placing a roast on the table.

Rosa sits down and they begin to move, passing each other bowls and plates and cups.

"How are classes?" Rosa asks. It's her usual question.

"Good. I might declare literature as a major," Liesel says nonchalantly.

"And what will you do with a literature degree?" Rosa asks.

Liesel tries not to sigh. She knew this question was coming.

"Write, perhaps. Find a job in publishing," she gives a little shrug.

"Sounds like a fine idea," Hans nods, and Rosa purses her lips into a thin line. Liesel knows that face.

"Papa, did you know a man named Vandenburg when you were in the war?" Liesel diverts the attention from Rosa's displeasure at her intended major.

Hans looks far away for a moment, "Yes, yes I did. How did you know?"

"His son is my history lecturer, Professor Vandenburg," Liesel says.

"A son," a small smile crosses Hans's face, "I should like to meet this professor of yours."

* * *

That's how Liesel finds herself dawdling at the end of Max's class almost a week later. Rudy sends her a strange look and she motions for him to leave. He narrows his eyes at her and rolls his eyes before complying.

Once the door closes behind him, Liesel makes her way down the rows to where the professor packs his bag.

"Professor?" Liesel says, her voice sounding higher to her own ears.

"Yes, Liesel?" he asks her, looking up. _Liesel_, he called her. Not Miss Meminger. Something catches in her throat and she thinks about how much she likes the sound of her name when he says it.

"I asked my father about his time in Vietnam. He remembers your father and said he'd like to meet you," she says nervously, afraid she'd think it odd.

His mouth splits into a smile, "I'd like to meet him, too. I don't know many of my father's old friends. It would be nice to speak to someone who knew him well."

Liesel nods, then bites the inside of her cheek.

"You're invited to dinner at our house next Saturday. If you have plans, another time, whenever you like, is fine," she stammers out the second sentence, realizing it was presumptuous of her to assume he'd drop everything for dinner with her. _With her father_, she corrects herself.

"No, I don't have plans. Saturday it is," Max smiles at her and Liesel's brain goes a little fuzzy.

"I'll tell my parents," Liesel finally gets out.

"Have a nice day, Liesel," Max says when he notices her glance at the door.

"You too, Professor. Max," she corrects herself.

She offers a weak half-smile and walks as calmly as she can to the door. She places her hand on the doorknob and waits a beat before leaving, not looking over her shoulder to see Max looking after her curiously.

* * *

"He's going to _your house_?" Rudy sounds incredulous when Liesel informs him of why she can't go to the movies (a midnight premiere, no less) with him and a group of friends a week and half from today.

"Yes," Liesel says simply, staring at her laptop screen.

They're in the library, Liesel typing up an assignment for women's history, Rudy supposedly studying for biology but clearly more interested in bothering Liesel.

"He's our professor," Rudy states the obvious.

"His father and my father were friends during the war. My father wants to meet him," Liesel says, exasperated.

"Bullshit," Rudy narrows his eyes at her. He knows how much Liesel likes the young professor, even if she's not willing to admit it.

"Drop it, Rudy. I have an essay to write," she snaps, her tone clipped.

Rudy sighs and turns his attention to his textbook, granting her a brief reprieve. Not ten minutes later, he speaks up.

"A professor, Liesel," the distaste is evident in his voice.

Liesel looks at him over her laptop and glares at him. Rudy raises his hands up in mock surrender and remains blessedly quiet the rest of their time at the library.

* * *

Sarah Dixon, Liesel's roommate, is a nice enough girl. She's currently standing in front of their shared vanity, combing her fingers through straight black hair. She shakes her head a little bit and frowns at her reflection.

"You look fine," Liesel tries not to sigh.

Sarah had been trying to arrange her hair in different styles for the past hour, and had done and redone her makeup three times.

"Really?" she asks.

"Really. Why are you so nervous? It's just Jane. You and Jane always go out," Liesel asks with a raised brow.

Sarah bites her lip and looks over her shoulder to where Liesel's sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"I really like her, Liesel. I don't know if she really likes me," she tries to explain.

Liesel smiles gently, knowing the feeling all too well.

"You two are practically inseparable. I think it's safe to say she really likes you," she says honestly.

Sarah smiles brightly, mood lifted at her friend's words.

"Thanks, Liesel," Sarah says.

"No problem," Liesel grins as Sarah shrugs a jean jacket on over her blouse and slips on her nice ballet flats.

"Don't stay out too late. You have that presentation tomorrow," Liesel reminds her.

Sarah rolls her eyes, "Whatever you say, mom."

She leans over the bed and ruffles Liesel's shoulder-length blonde curls. Liesel scowls at her and Sarah moves to the door.

"Don't wait up!" she calls before disappearing out the door.

Liesel shakes her head and picks up the history of art book she had been looking through. It's a Thursday night and her friends all have plans as few of them took Friday classes (save Sarah, of course), but she declined their invitations in favor of staying in. She doesn't want to seem shy or snobby, sometimes she just doesn't have the energy to join them all the time. They are a rowdy bunch, and she prefers the solitude, though she does like a good party every once in a while. She supposes this comes from her first few months at the Hubermanns. She was a scared little girl with no friends, her family gone. She adjusted, yes, but the trepidation and predilection for isolation remained. She would regularly disappear into her room, or to the bay window, with a book to read at home. She's just glad the Hubermanns accept her as she is, and don't try to make her more outgoing.

Liesel lifts the pillow behind her and rests her head against it, and continues to read.

* * *

She stays at the university this weekend, as next weekend is the dinner with her parents and Max. The thought of him meeting her parents makes her stomach do somersaults.

Liesel tries to keep her mind off of it. She goes to the movies with Sarah and Jane, and feels like a third wheel, what with her friends holding hands and whispering into each others' ears.

She stands in line for popcorn, cardigan draped over her arm while Jane and Sarah go claim their seats. She scans the crowd, and for a moment she thinks she sees Max, but it can't possibly be him, can it? She always had the impression that teachers didn't exist outside of school. But she saw him at the coffee shop, so it was only logical he'd be here on a Saturday, no?

She blinks and sees that it is in fact Max, who is not alone. By his side is a woman with dark blonde, almost brown hair, swept up into a bun. She's wearing a crisp white blouse with a cardigan (not unlike the one Liesel has in her arms), and a knee-length black skirt with flats. Max is dressed more casually than in class, wearing a sweater and jeans.

Something about seeing him with the nameless woman makes Liesel's heart catch in her throat. She tears gaze away from them and bites the inside of her cheek.

She feels stupid for being upset. She has no right. Max isn't her boyfriend or anything. He's just her professor.

She finally gets her popcorn and makes her way to the theater where her friends are waiting, her eyes trained on the floor since she wants to make sure that Max doesn't see her. On the off-chance he does see her, if she doesn't see him she won't have to acknowledge him.

Liesel's relieved when Sarah bounces up to her to help her with the popcorn, and she effectively puts thoughts of her professor out of her mind, at least for the duration of the film.

* * *

The week starts with a pop quiz in her sociology class, followed by presentation in women's history.

She's stopped by Max on her way out of his history class and Rudy not-so-subtly glares as he leaves to wait for Liesel outside.

He asks if she'd like him to drive her home on Saturday so she wouldn't have to take the train and she nods tersely, thanking him for his kindness.

When she tells Rudy of this he narrows his eyes at her.

"What's going on between you two?" Rudy asks as they walk towards the cafeteria.

"What? Nothing. He's being nice. And I told you my dad invited him for dinner," Liesel brushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Well you seem awfully chummy lately. Just be careful, Lise," Rudy says softly.

"I'm not an idiot," Liesel says sharply, "besides he's our professor."

Rudy nods, not quite believing if Liesel herself believes her words.

* * *

Liesel finds herself in Max Vandenburg's car Saturday afternoon. It's a Volkswagon, possibly from 2000 or so, Liesel isn't quite sure. The inside of the car is clean and it's apparent Max takes good care of it.

It's an hour's drive to her parents' house, if the traffic is good (the train takes about an hour and a half as it makes stops in a few small towns).

She sits next to him silently, her overnight bag filled with laundry in the backseat. Max taps his fingers on the steering wheel absentmindedly, eyes trained on the road.

"You can turn the radio on if you like. Passenger's choice," Max says politely.

Liesel looks up at him and reaches for the button to turn the radio on. It's set to NPR and Liesel smirks. Of course it's on NPR.

"You can change it, Liesel, I don't mind," he glances at her quickly.

She looks down, hair falling in front of her face so he doesn't see the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She doesn't know how to act around him. She stays quiet in class, answering a question or two if no one else volunteers an answer. Max never seeks her out to make her speak like he does with some of the other students, usually the ones more likely to slack off. He's always nice and polite, friendly but keeping a respectable distance. Are they friends? Liesel doesn't think so, and Max most likely doesn't either. Teacher and student. Acquaintances. Children of family friends. That's it. Friends doesn't seem like a proper word.

_Soul mates_, the voice in Liesel's head murmurs. She ignores it, busying herself with changing the radio stations. She finally settles on one playing Radiohead and Max lets out a small snort.

"Should I change it?" Liesel asks, wondering if she's made the wrong choice.

"No, I love Radiohead. I just didn't think kids your age still listened to this stuff," he shrugs as Fake Plastic Trees plays through the speakers.

_Kids. _Liesel bites her lip, choosing not to respond.

They stop at the last red light before having to turn onto the freeway. Max turns his head to look at her. He's not quite sure what to make of her. She's sweet and smart and smart's an understatement, really. She's brilliant, and always willing to help everyone she meets. He remembers how on the second day of his class she volunteered to move seats so that a boy who'd forgotten his glasses could sit up front. How she carries extra pens to loan out, just in case.

He's read her essays for his class, and Dean Hermann showed him some extracts of her literature assignments and he knows that Liesel Meminger isn't just brilliant: she's full of wonders.

He's still looking at her when the light turns green and Liesel turns her head to stare back at him quizzically with her large brown eyes.

"Max," she says, "the light is green."

He snaps out of the daze he was in, turning right onto the freeway. The sound of his name on her lips shouldn't make him space out like that, make his stomach twist painfully. She's his student. His brilliant, lovely student. _His_. It's wrong of him to think that. She's not his, as if she'd want an old man like him when she deserves so much more. She doesn't belong to anyone, him least of all.

Max sneaks a look at her. Her head rests against the window and her eyes are lidded and she looks tired. He wonders if her classes are running her ragged or if she spent the entire night before reading. Or out with Rudy Steiner. His thoughts darken at the thought of the Steiner boy and his brain hisses _Mine_, but Max pushes that thought aside because it's wrong and absurd.

He had seen her at the movie theater. He knows it was her, he'd recognize her anywhere. She must not have seen him. Her eyes were downcast and she seemed sad and he wanted to go ask her what was the matter but he wasn't alone and he figured that neither was she. She seemed to always be surrounded by friends. He was proven right when a girl came up to help her with her snacks, so he thought it best not to interrupt.

"What was the exit?" Max asks.

"Himmel," Liesel replies.

They still have quite a ways to go.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please review and let me know what you think.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! I've changed things so Max's father didn't die in the war, but when Max was a small child. I hope that's alright.  
**

* * *

Liesel gives him directions once they've reached the exit, Himmel. Left at the first stoplight, drive through town for a few minutes, then a right onto a residential street.

Max listens, paying close attention to the speed limit. They don't talk much on the way, instead listening to the radio whenever Liesel isn't telling him which way to go.

Before long they pull up in front of the Hubermann residence. Before Liesel can even get out of the car Max is already outside opening the door for her and retrieving her bag. It takes all of Liesel's self control not to gape at him. After a moment she gathers her wits and gets out of the car.

She takes the bag from Max, who reaches over to close the car door. His arm brushes against her, ever so slightly, and Liesel freezes. Max seems not to notice, and waits for her to lead him to the front door.

Liesel moves after a beat, regaining her senses. They walk to the door and Liesel tries the doorknob, finding it unlocked. She makes a mental note to tell her parents to keep the door locked. Himmel is the safest place in the world, but just in case.

"Mama? Papa?" Liesel calls as she walks over the threshold to the foyer, Max right behind her.

She stops suddenly, and he nearly crashes into her. His hands go to her waist to steady himself and he immediately lets go, feeling as if he'd just been burned. She wears an oversized rain jacket, but he had still touched her.

Footsteps sound from the stairs and Hans appears in the foyer. He smiles upon seeing his daughter, then his eyes go to the man standing behind her.

"Papa," Liesel steps forward, "this is Max Vandenburg, my professor."

"Max," Hans lets out a small breath, "you look just like your father."

Max looks surprised at the comment and moves forward, sticking his hand out.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hubermann. Thank you for inviting me," he says politely.

"It's nice to meet you too, Max," he takes the young man's hand, shaking it.

"I'm going to go put this upstairs," Liesel says.

"Rosa needs your help in the kitchen. We'll be in the sitting room," Hans tells her.

"Okay."

Liesel makes her way to the stairs, and looks back at Max. He looks at her nervously and she gives him a reassuring smile. He'll be fine with Hans. Rosa is a different matter, however.

After depositing her bag in her room and leaving her jacket on the back of her chair she goes downstairs, passing by the sitting room where Max has been divested of his own jacket and Hans is waving his hands around, telling a story.

She enters the kitchen and Rosa looks up at her.

"Here, take the coffee," she says by way of greeting.

"Hello, mama," Liesel says, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hello, Saumensch," Rosa smiles a bit, looking at her youngest. It's only Liesel who still visits regularly. Her other children apparently can't be arsed.

"Did you say hello to Professor Vandenburg?" Liesel asks, hoping she was polite.

"Yes, I said hello to your professor," Rosa says, "he doesn't look like a professor," she observes.

Liesel hums in agreement. She takes the two cups of coffee on the counter and goes to the sitting room, setting them in front of Hans and Max. Max smiles at her as he says thank you and Liesel's mouth goes dry and she really should control herself.

She practically runs back into the kitchen to hide. Rosa is preparing soup and the salad is already in the fridge. There's also the roast beef currently in the oven and the potatoes Rosa is currently mashing up.

"Is there anything else?" Liesel asks.

"Tray of cookies," Rosa nods to the cookies currently cooling on the stove.

Liesel reaches up to a cabinet to take out a large plate. She moves the cookies from the tray onto the plate and carefully takes them to the sitting room. She sets them down next to the little plates Rosa had already put on the coffee table, then she plops down gracelessly next to Hans on the couch.

Max sits across from them in an armchair, and smiles as Hans drapes his arm over Liesel's shoulder and Liesel scoots closer.

"This one here is my favorite," he says in a conspiratorial tone.

"Papa!" Liesel looks at him sharply, rivaling one of Rosa's glares.

Trudy and Hans Jr. never visit, but they're older and have their own spouses and children and busy lives. Liesel is the youngest, not even twenty-one yet. She came to the Hubermanns when Trudy was already entering the workforce and Hans was in college. She didn't grow up with them, but they were still family, for Hans and Rosa's sakes.

Half of Max's mouth quirks up into something between a smile and a smirk. Liesel looks at her lap and wills herself not to blush. Her hair falls in waves, hiding either side of her face until she can feel the heat subside from her cheeks.

Hans changes the topic and asks Max about his mother and his childhood and what he remembers of his father. In turn, Max asks about Vietnam and his father and what he was like as a young man.

Once the coffee is gone and the cookies are half-eaten, Rosa informs them it's time for dinner and they move to the dining room. Hans sits at the head of the table with Rosa directly opposite him. Liesel sits to Hans's left, and Max sits across from her. He flashes her a smile as she passes him a ladle for the pea soup and she nearly drops it.

Liesel takes a dainty sip of the watery peas. For some reason, it's Rosa's go-to soup. Every time she fell ill as a child, Rosa would make her signature soup. She doesn't expect Max to like it, but sees him eating with gusto.

He eats everything heaped on his plate – the mashed potatoes, the roast beef, the bread rolls, everything. Liesel watches him between bites of her own food. He's a slim man, that much is obvious. She wonders if he has regular meals. She rarely sees him in the dining hall, though she sees other professors there often. She figures he eats at home, or maybe he gets take-out a lot. Liesel shakes her head, realizing she's delving too far into something so trivial.

She tunes back into the conversation going on around her, and Rosa is peppering him with questions about teaching and why he chose history and why he's pushing her daughter onto _literature_ as a major of all things.

"He's not pushing," Liesel says tensely, looking to Rosa with wide eyes, "just suggesting."

"I never meant to be pushy," Max says immediately, fork hanging halfway to his mouth.

Rosa nods, glancing at Liesel. She's surprised by her daughter's little outburst, to say the least. Liesel was always quieter. Mischievous, yes, but still quiet.

"What can she do with a literature degree, hmm?" Rosa asks.

Hans looks up at the ceiling as if willing for some divine intervention to end this conversation.

"There's journalism, publishing, teaching, even," Max begins to list the possibilities.

Liesel smiles shyly at him in thanks.

"See mama, there are options," Liesel says.

"Yes, and she still has two years left," Hans intervenes.

The discussion goes back to Hans's time in the army with Vandenburg Sr. The things they saw in Vietnam were terrible. It's a war neither wanted to fight. Hans shares that he had planned to run away to Canada, but then what? He'd be a coward. He's still plagued by the memories of the destruction he saw. Max's father was a stabilizing force for him. He was younger than Hans by several years, so wide-eyed with his future ahead of him. Nothing could prepare them for the PTSD they'd go home with. Nothing.

Max remains silent. He looks at Liesel, but he's not actually looking at her. He's somewhere else entirely and Hans stops talking when he realizes Max must have remembered something, something unpleasant, to say the least. Liesel's brow furrows and she wants to reach out to him, to bring him back from wherever his mind has gone.

"He had nightmares," Max says simply. He's still dazed.

Hans looks ashamed of himself, thinking he should never have gone into such detail.

"Max?" Liesel says softly.

He snaps out of the haze he was in, and his brown eyes meet Liesel's. She looks worried, and he hates himself for it.

"I'm sorry," he says, eyes not leaving hers.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn't have said some of those things," Hans says.

Max finally tears his eyes away from Liesel. Rosa looks between them, and a light goes off in her head.

The rest of dinner passes with mundane conversations about the increasingly colder weather, the upcoming holidays, and how commercialized the holiday season is. Max tells them that even Hanukkah is commercialized these days and Rosa snorts.

"What did you expect from a holiday where you get presents for eight days?" she asks dryly.

Liesel's eyes widen at the comment and she wishes she could disappear under the table. Her shoulders slump and she looks at her now empty plate to avoid eye contact.

Max laughs, "Good point."

Liesel sits up a straighter, relieved he hadn't taken offense.

* * *

After dinner Liesel makes hot coco and tea. Hans sits in the sitting room with his tea and Liesel helps Rosa clean up. She wordlessly hands a mug to Max and motions with her head towards the backyard.

There's a porch with a porch swing and when she emerges outside, now clad in an oversized sweater, with her own mug of tea, Max looks up at her and can't look away. Her blonde hair falls in waves to her shoulders, the sweater is too large for her frame, and she looks at him in a way that makes Max think she's the only person to actually _see _him.

She leans against the swing and Max immediately scoots over, making room for her. She looks down and settles down next to him, curling her legs beneath her.

"I'm sorry," Max says quietly.

Rosa and Hans are in the sitting room, and the TV is on but he still wonders if they can hear them.

The sun is setting, nearly disappearing over the horizon and Liesel's looking at him again and he can't stop looking at her. The golden red light makes her hair glow and freckles stand out and he most certainly should not be this close to a student.

"For what?" Liesel asks.

"Worrying you, and your parents," Max says like it's obvious. He looks away, finally.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Liesel says.

She almost reaches out to touch his arm reassuringly, but instead grips her mug tighter. She brings the cup to her lips, distracting herself with the hot chocolate.

"I'm sorry Rosa turned on you, about the major thing," Liesel says, embarrassed.

"It's fine, Liesel," Max smiles at her, "she's just concerned."

"It's just…sometimes I think they still think I'm a child," Liesel tries to articulate the feeling of always being the baby of the family, the favorite. Always being afraid of disappointing them.

"It's silly, I know," Liesel shakes her head.

Max finds himself staring at her again, "It's not silly. Never invalidate your own feelings. You're entitled to feel how you feel."

"Sometimes I don't even know how I feel," Liesel bites her lip.

Max laughs, "I understand completely."

She's focusing her attention on the mug, but then she looks up at Max from beneath her lashes and they unconsciously shift closer to one another. Max moves one leg to sit on it and he leans forward and Liesel tilts her head. She leans in, too and she can see his eyes darken. Her heartbeat quickens and they sit there, heads tilted, staring for who knows how long.

"Liesel!" Rosa's voice calls from inside the house, "your phone!"

That breaks them out of the trance they were in. Liesel practically jumps up off the porch swing, almost spilling her coco. She shoves the screen door open and runs inside, cheeks bright red.

Max stares after her, still stuck with one leg now falling asleep underneath him. What had just happened? What had just _almost_ happened? He couldn't be that guy. The one taking advantage of a student. He would never. He blinks slowly, trying to regain his senses.

She had been so close. He could smell the perfume she wore, flowery but light enough to not be overbearing. If only he'd set his cup down he could have run his fingers through what he assumes is soft hair. He leans back and closes his eyes. All he sees is Liesel smiling at him. _Max, _she says and he relishes the sound of his name on her lips. He wants to taste his name on her mouth but he knows it's wrong.

"Max?"

His eyes snap open and she's standing in front of him, arms awkwardly crossed over her chest.

"Would like another cup of coco?" she asks.

Liesel fidgets and Max wants to kick himself for making her so uncomfortable, in her own home nonetheless.

"No, Liesel. I think I better get going," he stands.

Liesel looks taken aback, and sad? No, she can't be sad to see him go. She nods and leads him back inside. He puts on his jacket and thanks the Hubermanns for their hospitality and bids them all farewell.

Liesel walks him to the front door and they stand in silence, unsure of how to proceed.

"Thank you for coming," Liesel says, unable to look at him.

Max thinks she must hate him. He hates himself, too.

"I'm sorry, Liesel," he says quietly, so that the Hubermanns don't overhear.

"For what?" she looks at him, appearing to be genuinely confused.

"Because I, you…outside there was…" he can't find the words to say anything.

Liesel shrugs, and offers a small smile.

"I'll see you in class, Max," she says.

"See you," Max tries to smile at her.

When her grin widens, he relaxes. He walks towards his car and Liesel gives a little wave. He waves back, and Liesel watches him drive away.

She walks back inside once his car is out of view. Before she can trudge upstairs to sort out her laundry, Rosa sends her look.

"Yes, mama?"

"Your professor is nice," she says simply.

"He is," Liesel agrees.

Deciding that was all she has to say, Liesel continues up the stairs to her room.

That night she falls asleep dreaming of dark eyes and hair soft like feathers.

* * *

**What did you all think? Fair warning, this is going to be a slow burn. A very, very slow burn.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the wait, I hope it was worth it. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

Her hand props up her chin while she taps her pen against the table with her other hand. She's sitting in the library, supposedly studying with Sarah. Her dorm mate had gone to look for a history book, leaving Liesel to her own devices.

She's facing the entrance, with a view of the large glass windows and the checkout desk. Liesel isn't exactly paying attention to anything in particular. She's just people watching.

When she sees a familiar figure with dark hair approach the library doors her elbow slides on the table and she nearly hits her chin on it. She scrambles to reach her book and stares down at it intensely, not looking up. She thinks he might not see her, though she hopes he will. (She's silly like that sometimes. Silly little Liesel with her silly little crush, the voice in her head sounds an awful lot like Rudy's, though Rudy would never say something so mean).

She hasn't had a meaningful conversation with Max since the dinner at her parents'. Since they almost…she shakes the memory away. She still volunteers in class and he treats her like everyone else, as if nothing happened. But then as she leaves he looks at her so intensely, like that night on the porch swing, that she's afraid to talk for fear of confessing her feelings. Her inappropriate, stupid feelings.

He doesn't ask her to stay after class to talk about her papers. He even suggests she take Professor Holtzapfel's creative writing class instead of his and when Liesel gets to her dorm room she throws herself onto her bed and cries, afraid that he hates her. She's confused and he's quiet and distant and she honestly wishes that stupid dinner had never happened.

She dares to look up, but Max is nowhere to be found. She's a little disappointed when Sarah comes back and slides into the seat she'd abandoned fifteen minutes ago.

"What's with you?" Sarah asks.

"Nothing," Liesel mumbles, eyes still glued to the book.

Sarah shrugs, figuring it's just a Liesel thing. She turns her attention to her book, or tries to. She notices Liesel looking up ever so often, trying to see something with her peripheral vision. Sarah follows her gaze. Not something. Someone.

It's Liesel's history professor, Vandensomething. She doesn't remember his name but she remembers hearing Jane (who had him last semester) remark on how he was a good teacher. She may have also mentioned pretty eyes and fluffy hair but Sarah paid it no mind. She can't imagine a professor being good looking. Her imagination is proven wrong when she sees him in person.

He has pretty eyes and fluffy hair, as Jane had described. She glances at Liesel, who tries to look like she's not staring at him, and she bites her lip. Liesel has a crush on him. It's cute, if not a bit pointless.

She thinks back to a few weeks ago, when Liesel had been vague about her weekend plans. Rudy had been in a mood and Sarah assumed they were bickering, as they do. Now that she thinks about it, Liesel's been skittish ever since then.

He passes by their table and his eyes flit to Liesel. He slows, looking as though he's about to say something, then he changes his mind upon seeing Sarah sitting next to Liesel, trying to appear as though she's reading.

* * *

_Enough is enough_, Liesel thinks. It's been nearly a month and tomorrow they'll be out for Thanksgiving break. There's no way she's going to drive herself mad over this for another week. Especially a week where she won't even see him. She shoos Rudy out of the classroom, and he rolls his eyes and mutters something about women.

Liesel lingers by her seat and Max looks up the rows.

"Liesel?" he says.

He hasn't said her name in weeks. Miss Meminger, sure, but not Liesel. She missed it.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" Liesel asks, almost shyly.

He's startled by her questions.

"Of course not. Why would you even think that?" Max leans against the desk at the front of the room.

"You've been avoiding me," Liesel says quietly, looking away.

"I thought you wanted me to. I still feel terrible about," he pauses and bites the inside of his cheek. _Terrible for almost kissing you. Terrible for wishing I did kiss you. Terrible for wishing I could kiss you right now_, he thinks. He's a dirty old man and if anything happened, he'd lose his job (and rightfully so).

"About?" Liesel asks, brow raised.

She walks down the steps that raise the desks, her bag slung over her shoulder. Max crosses his arms across his chest, almost defensively. She stops at the front row. Her eyes meet his and Max's arms drop to his sides.

"Please don't avoid me," she requests.

Max nods. He can't show favorites, or treat her differently, but he can still talk to her.

"I didn't want to," he tells her.

Her mouth quirks into a half-smile.

"Have a happy Thanksgiving, Max," she says.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Liesel," Max replies.

She gives a little nod in thanks and leaves. Max is left with a headache and pain forming near his ribs.

* * *

Rudy is on the quad, kicking around a soccer ball when Liesel finds him. She steals the ball before kicking it back to him, nearly scuffing her flats in the process.

"How's Max?" Rudy asks snidely.

"Fine," Liesel says simply, waiting for him to kick the ball to her.

He does, and shakes his head, "You and your secrets. You know you can trust me, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Liesel asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Is he your boyfriend?" he lowers his voice so he's not overheard.

He doesn't expect Liesel to burst into giggles, but that's exactly what she does. She nearly doubles over, laughing. Rudy's confused now, and asks her what's so funny.

"Boyfriend," Liesel lets out between her laughter.

Rudy scowls at her and kicks the soccer ball so that it hits her in the shin.

"Hey!" she frowns at him, laughter cut short. She kicks the ball back at him, hard.

"You don't have to lie to me, Liesel. We're friends," Rudy looks sad, almost betrayed that she doesn't trust him with her secret.

"I am not dating him," Liesel insists.

"Well you're awfully close," Rudy says defensively.

"We're friends," Liesel says, but it sounds strange on her tongue. Friends isn't quite the right word. Teacher and student, yes, but that's not right either.

Her friend stares at her skeptically.

"We are. Now drop it," she hisses at him.

Rudy shakes his head and kicks the ball gently to her, "Fine. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Of course," Liesel says, expression softening.

She knows Rudy knows she has a crush on Max. It's not exactly a secret. She can't tell him about the almost-kiss or the intensity with which he stares at her, as if staring into her soul. What would Max even want with her? She's a twenty-year old who had one boyfriend in high school (it lasted three months, and ended when he wanted to go too far and she didn't want the same). She had no life experience, but Max, Max was older. Wiser, probably with a string of exes who he might have loved. Her stomach lurches at the thought of Max looking at some random woman with love and adoration. She wishes he would look at her the same way Hans looks at Rosa when he thinks she's not looking (for all their bickering, they truly do love each other).

Rudy can sense Liesel's unease, and the droop of her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Liesel," he says quietly, "I just feel like I'm losing my best friend."

She smiles at him, "Best friend, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Rudy rolls his eyes and finally cracks a grin.

Liesel laughs at him and kicks the ball back.

"Is Kurt coming home for Thanksgiving?" Liesel asks, referring to Rudy's older brother.

"Yeah, probably. What about Hans and Trudy?" Rudy asks.

"Not likely. They don't even live in the state anymore," Liesel gives a little shrug.

She knows it hurts her parents that their eldest don't visit often—if at all. She makes a promise that she'd always check up on her parents and visit them, even after she graduates and moves out to get a job. And if she can't visit, then the least she can do is call.

It's a little lonely, their Thanksgivings. Rudy has five brothers and sisters, so his house is always filled to the brim. Add aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, and well, it's a full house.

Rudy's dad, Alex Steiner, will be there later tonight to pick him up. Liesel would go with them, but they live in a completely different town, two hours away from Himmel. It would be a burden on them so she resigns herself to taking the train in the morning. It'll be packed, as it always is on holidays, and there will undoubtedly be delays, but she'll get home by dinner for sure (she hopes). The Hubermans have a car, but it's old and Hans refuses to get a new one. Instead he works on it in the garage, tinkering. It's only good for short trips in town, or else she'd get picked up by her parents, too.

A shiver runs down her spine and she decides she should get to her dorm to pack. She hands the ball to Rudy, gives him a hug goodbye, and takes her bag before running off.

* * *

She's standing in front of the bus stop a block from her dorm room, wearing dark jeans, a forest green blouse, and a brown faux leather jacket over it. Her boots are old and scuffed up, but she wears them anyway. Her backpack rests over both shoulders, and she has a small, wheeled carry-on suitcase in tow. It's early enough that it's still dark out, and cloudy and gloomy. Early enough that the bus shouldn't be too crowded. She's checked her phone three times and the bus is fifteen minutes late. If it doesn't show up now she'll miss the train and be stuck at the station for another two hours before the next one.

She hears tires on the asphalt and looks up in hopes of seeing the bus. Her heart drops when she sees it's just a car. She looks down, then back up again upon recognizing it.

It comes to a stop in front of her and a voice calls out, "Liesel?"

"Hi," she greets, waving awkwardly.

"What are you doing out here?" he asks.

It's still dark and she's alone at the bus stop and yes, he's worried. Molching is as safe a place as you can ever be, but Liesel's a woman and a pretty one at that and he worries. The world isn't safe for women and girls, and it's society and men's fault so the least he can do is worry – about Liesel, about the other girls in his class, about his mother and cousins and every other girl out there. He can't do anything to keep them all safe, but for now he can keep Liesel company (and safe).

"Waiting for the bus. Which is late," Liesel chews on the inside of her cheek. It's a habit she's trying to break.

"You're taking the bus to Himmel?" Max asks. It would take hours.

"To the train station. Train to Himmel," Liesel clarifies.

He frowns. That's not much better. The train stops about every fifteen minutes, so what would take two or three hours by car turns into a five-hour journey.

"I'm headed to New Stuttgart," Max says, "Himmel is on the way. I could drive you if you don't want to wait."

The words are out before he can think.

Liesel's heart pounds quickly and she nods slowly.

"Thank you," she says.

Max opens the door and comes around to take her bags and place them in the trunk. He holds the passenger door open for her and Liesel smiles nervously at him. She slides into the passenger seat and the heater is on and her nerves seem to disappear. Maybe it was the cold making her tense?

Max returns to the driver's seat and takes the wheel.

"Thank you so much. I didn't know how much longer I would've had to wait," Liesel says.

Max looks at her, smile forming on his lips. Liesel tries not to stare. He had been so close, that night after dinner. What would he do if she kissed him? She shakes the thought. He'd get fired, that's what would happen. _Unless no one finds out_, she thinks. It thrills her, imagining a secret relationship: clandestine meetings, charged looks in the halls, finding creative places to meet. She stops herself before she can get in too deep. He probably doesn't like her that way.

She glances at him and he's looking at her the way Hans looks at Rosa and _oh_, she realizes, maybe he does.

He starts the car, tearing his gaze away from her. She looks straight ahead and focuses on the scenery – dark clouds, the bare trees and dead leaves. Next month marks the end of the semester. The end of her sole reason to see Max each week. She took his advice and didn't sign up for his class. She tells him this.

"I noticed you weren't on the roster," he nods.

Is that _disappointment_ in his voice?

"Why didn't you want me in your class?" Liesel asks.

_Because I want to be with you everywhere but there. Because I don't want to be your teacher._

Instead, he finds an excuse.

"You're brilliant, and my class is introduction to creative writing. You'd be better off in a more advanced one," Max says carefully.

Her face flushes at being called brilliant, and she blames the heater. In fact, it's getting a bit too stuffy for her liking. She shrugs off her jacket and Max glances at her quickly. It's a plain green button down blouse, with sleeves to the elbow. The color only enhances the loveliness of her eyes and the flush of her skin.

That's when Max knows for sure he's in too deep. He had tried reasoning with himself before but now it's certain: he's been completely enchanted by her and she has no idea. How he's going to spend the next two hours (three, if traffic is bad) without pulling over and kissing her, he has no idea.

* * *

**I feel like I could rename this 'Riding in Cars with Max'. Who wants Max to pull over and kiss her senseless? **


	5. Chapter 5

**I am so, so sorry about the long wait. Classes and two part time jobs keep getting in the way, but I'm back! I hope to update once a week, or at least every two weeks. I hope to write more between shifts now that I'm back into the swing of working and going to class. Thank you for sticking with this story!  
**

* * *

She's pressed up against the car door; the handle of the passenger door digs into her shoulders, but she doesn't mind. She's sitting on her knees, Max mirroring her position. He's leaning over the gearshift, moving as close to her as he can. His hands are on her cheeks, his mouth kissing her sweetly. She moans against his lips and one of his hands moves to tangle in her hair. It's better than she could have ever imagined. She presses her chest flush against his and he pushes her back so that she's half lying against the door with her legs bent, trying to make room for Max on top of her. His lips leave hers and she whimpers at the loss of contact, only for him to kiss her neck and move his hand from her hair to her waist. His fingers work clumsily against a button of her blouse, then another, and another, until it's undone all the way and she's left in a plain white bra. She feels heat pool in her belly and something else, something she's never felt before. She silently berates herself for not having nicer bras but how was she supposed to know this would happen?

He stares at her, dark eyes glazed and his lips swollen. He looks beautiful, and he's looking at her like she's the loveliest thing he's ever seen in his life.

"Liesel," his voice is quiet.

"Mhm," is all she can manage.

"Liesel," his voice gets louder.

Her eyes snap open and she jerks upright in the passenger seat. She nearly hits her head against the window, but manages to keep herself from getting injured. Max is looking at her out of the corner of his eye, hands tight on the steering wheel.

"Are you okay?" Max asks her, brows furrowed.

He steals a glance at her, watching as Liesel nods slowly.

"Yeah, I just drifted off. Sorry," she says sheepishly.

"I'm sorry I woke you. I just wanted to know if you'd eaten breakfast yet," Max says.

Liesel shakes her head no, then yawns. She had woken up early to catch the bus to the train station, neglecting breakfast. Sarah had sleepily wished her a happy Thanksgiving and safe journey home, then promptly fallen back to sleep once Liesel had wished her the same and crept quietly out the door.

"We can stop for something on the way," Max offers.

She bites her lip and looks out the window. They're already on the highway, surrounded by cars. Of course they'd be sitting in traffic. She'd only been out for about a half hour, and she's reeling a bit from the dream she had. She can feel her cheeks turn pink, so she shakes her head so that her hair hides her face.

"So, food?" Max asks slowly.

His eyes are on the road. He looks at Liesel quickly, then focuses on the cars stalled in front of him.

"Yes, please," Liesel nods.

The next exit is a mile out, and they're stuck in a slightly awkward silence, the only sound being the music on the radio. It's the Smiths, and Liesel rests her head against the window once more. She looks at Max while his gaze is trained on the road. There's nothing for him to focus on.

Traffic is bumper to bumper but he can't turn his head to his right to look at Liesel. Once he starts looking at her, he doesn't stop. She'd drifted off to sleep and had looked so peaceful he didn't want to wake her, but then her stomach growled and he figured she had skipped breakfast to make it on time for the bus, the damned (blessed) bus that never showed. She had looked so small and cold while standing at the bus stop, even though she's not exactly short (not tall, either, perhaps just a couple of inches shorter than him), and she had a jacket on. It was probably the way she had her arms crossed over her chest, and the little hops she did from foot to foot in an attempt to stay warm. It's adorable, really.

_Please, please, please, let me get what I want this time…_

Liesel sighs and Max tries not to look at her. He fails. The noises she had made during her nap did things to him. Things made him want to do things that a grown man should not want to do to a girl ten years younger than him. Logically he knows Liesel is an adult, but she's still his student. He counts down the days to the end of the semester, the only downside being that he won't see her on a weekly basis. Part of him dreams of seeing her every morning and every night, her cuddled against his side in the mess that he calls an apartment. He hates that part of him. She has her whole life ahead of her, and she's so smart, so brilliant, he'd only be holding her back. He's selfish, he knows.

His thoughts are consumed by Liesel and nothing else. He would forgo food and water if it meant Liesel would be by his side. He's sick. A sick, twisted man. He doesn't even know how she feels about him. The near-kiss was likely a fluke. He replays that night over and over again in his head. If only Rosa Hubermann hadn't called her to get her phone, what might have happened? Would she have kissed him? Would she have let him hold her? He doesn't dare dream of touching her without her permission. If she says no, he'll respect that. It might be the most difficult thing he's ever done, but he'd do it, for her.

He realizes he's been staring at her in the unmoving traffic and decides to speak.

"What do you want to eat?" he asks.

"Anything," Liesel answers.

He's been staring at her, she knows. She bites her lip, wondering what would happen if she tells him to pull over so she can kiss him, to make her dream a reality. But she can't because he's her professor and it would cost him his job. And because he can't feel the same way about her, can he? But then, he looks at her often, with the same look Hans sends Rosa's way when he thinks his wife isn't looking. It's not the same looks Sarah and Jane exchange with each other – it's less playful. Hungrier, with more longing. She licks her lips, wondering if she's imagining things. She turns to look at him just in time to see him turning away. Maybe her head isn't up in the clouds as much as she thought.

"Max?" she says, "why don't you really want me in your class?"

He grips the steering wheel so tight Liesel imagines he could break it.

"I told you. You're too smart to be in a beginner's class," he lets out the practiced lie.

She decides to drop the topic of her schedule next semester.

"I've been writing a bit, in my spare time," she admits.

"Really?" Max chances a glance at her, grinning.

She nods, feeling warmed by his reaction, "About a boy who lives in the shadows. It doesn't make much sense outside of my head…" she trails off, trying to think of how best to explain it.

"I bet it's wonderful," Max smiles, "I've been writing, too."

"About?" Liesel asks, curious.

He falls silent and his brows furrow. Liesel worries she might be prying too much.

"A girl. What else?" Max turns to face her as he answers in a voice raw with emotion. His gaze burns into her and she can feel her heart beating so quickly it might just come out of her chest.

"Oh," Liesel says, her voice sounding shaky to her ears.

"Will you read it, when it's done?" Max asks her quietly.

He sounds shy, almost. Liesel nods, struggling to speak.

"I'd love nothing more," she says with a tremor of a smile.

Max lets out a breath and smiles at her, and Liesel's lips quirk into a wide grin. He has that effect on her, making her breathless and overjoyed all at once. She feels giddy once the meaning of his words hit her with their full force. He cares for her, as she cares for him. She bites the inside of her cheek and looks down. Any other man would have tried to kiss her by now, but she knows Max isn't just any man.

* * *

They stop at a Starbucks drive thru before continuing on their way. Liesel nibbles on a cinnamon bun and her pumpkin spice latte sits in the cup holder (so sue her, she buys into the seasonal drinks). Max has croissant and a black coffee. He takes sips between bites of bread.

"Will you have a lot of family visiting for Thanksgiving?" Liesel asks, feeling far more comfortable with him than ever.

"Not really. Just my aunt's family, my mother's sister," he explains, "will come to town. We get together for Hanukah mostly. Me and my twenty cousins, both sides of the family."

"It sounds like fun," Liesel says wistfully. She wishes sometimes that Trudy and Hans Jr. would visit more often, at least on Christmas. Rosa and Hans deserve better than the treatment their eldest children give them.

"It's a full house. Sharing beds and mattresses was fine when we were kids, but now, not so much," Max says with a small smile.

"My brother used to sneak into my room whenever he had a nightmare, and I'd sit with him until he fell asleep," Liesel says softly.

He looks at her, and she looks far away. Tears well in her eyes but she doesn't let herself cry.

"I love Hans and Rosa, but I want my mother. I want my brother," she says plainly, "the holidays just make me want them more."

Max nods in understanding, not wanting to interrupt.

"It's not fair. It's just not fair. She was healthy and Werner was four."

By now her chin quivers and she stares at her lap to try and control her emotions.

"He was my favorite person. I wish it had been me in the train instead of him. I wish it had been me," Liesel looks up at Max with a tear-streaked face.

He immediately pulls over into the right shoulder lane and turns on the emergency lights. He undoes his seatbelt and Liesel's, and pulls her into a hug.

She never meant to turn into a crying mess, it just happened. She sobs, hugging Max close to her. She rests her head against his chest and lets herself cry, shoulders shaking. She'd kept it in for eleven years. Never had she told anyone she wishes she had died in her brother's place, not Hans, not Rosa, not Rudy, not even the therapist she was required to see after her placement at the Hubermann's. If only she'd been in the train, too, then at least they all would have died together. Why she unloads this on Max, she's not sure.

"Please, please, never wish that you were gone, please," Max whispers into her hair. "I know you feel guilty, but terrible things just happen and you can't do anything to stop it."

He knows it from experience. He remembers his father's night terrors, his PTSD, and the gunshot that ended Erik Vandenberg's life.

"How can there be a benevolent God if he lets good people die? Children die? A god who lets wars rage on and people die needlessly isn't one I want to pray to," Liesel murmurs against his chest.

"I know. I know," Max agrees quietly.

They don't know how long they stay like that, until Liesel pulls away and looks at Max with glassy, red eyes. Her nose is red from the crying and she apologizes for the mess she made of herself and his shirt.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Max says reassuringly.

His hand finds hers and he raises it to his mouth, kissing her palm. Liesel's eyes flutter and she feels her chest constrict. She places her free hand against his cheek, right next to his mouth, and he kisses that one too. He places his other hand on her cheek to mirror her, and she kisses his palm in response. She smiles at him and he brings their hands down, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Should we get going?" he asks.

Liesel nods, and squeezes his hand.

* * *

**I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Please let me know what you think! As for a teaser, let's just say things will move faster once the semester's over.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised, an update a week later! I'm quite proud of myself for getting this done so quickly. I hope to have the next one up next week :)  
**

* * *

Their hands are entwined the rest of the car ride. Liesel had called Hans earlier while waiting at the Starbucks drive thru to let him know she'd be arriving home directly and that there was no need to pick her up.

When she sees the exit for Himmel coming up she tenses. Max can feel the pressure on his hand and he shifts and runs his thumb over the back of her hand until she relaxes a little.

Would he laugh at her if she tells him to turn back to Molching? She doesn't want to go to New Stuttgart with him, to stay with his family. It'd be too much and she'd be a bundle of nerves. But in Molching they could hide out in his apartment and sit and read and talk and…

She blushes at the direction her mind went. She's ridiculous, really. He shows her a bit of kindness and she's ready part her legs for him. She bites her lip, knowing that's inaccurate. He's unfailingly kind and patient, and smart. She finds him handsome, yes, but she might just be more attracted to his mind.

His lectures in class are so energetic and full of life, well thought out, detailed, informative, he's everything a professor should be. He encourages his students and doesn't chastise them for mistakes, choosing to help them instead. He sees more students during his office hours than any other professor at the university. True, some of those hours are filled by giggly girls who are half-in love with them (how could they not be?) but he still takes the time to guide them through their assignments and answers their questions, seemingly oblivious to the female gaze.

A girl had once glared at her earlier in the semester when she'd accidentally interrupted her meeting with Max. Liesel knocked on the door and let herself in as Max said "come in". She had her book in hand, her essay for him to review sitting on top of it. The girl sitting across from Max had turned around and given her the nastiest look ever directed her way.

"Sorry, am I early?" Liesel asked eyes flitting between the girl and Max.

"No, Lies—Miss Meminger," Max caught himself, "we're running a bit late."

"I can come back another time, then," Liesel said with a shaky smile.

"Five more minutes, promise," Max said.

The girl looked ready to protest, and Liesel certainly didn't want the disdain of some stranger.

"It's fine, Professor," Liesel said and backed out of the office and closed the door, catching a glimpse of the hurt puppy-dog face Max wore.

He had emailed her not even twenty minutes later, apologetic. The girl in his office had been a difficult student, and could she come to talk about her essay if she had the time?

She had agreed, because Liesel is Liesel, and they ended up at a bookstore blocks away from school on a Friday night while the rest of the student body was out partying. They went over Liesel's essay in-depth for almost an hour, then spent two hours giving each other book recommendations. He walked Liesel and her two new bags full of books home.

Liesel smiles at the memory. That was before the strangeness of the last month, before the almost-kiss. That's why she had trouble seeing him as just a professor. He was like a friend, too.

"What are you thinking about?" Max asks.

"The night we went to the bookstore to look over my essay," she says with a small grin.

Max smiles and squeezes her hand gently. It was a good memory, from a time when he was better able to control himself. He had to do his best to not push her against a bookshelf and kiss her. He had slipped up and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as they had been looking over her essay, and he spent the rest of the evening trying to maintain a respectable distance.

The car moves into the right lane, preparing to make an exit, and Liesel can feel her heart speed up. It's too soon. She won't see him for a week and he'll forget all about her, about this new, confusing _thing_ they're in the middle of. Max can sense something is wrong as they leave the freeway and stop at a red light.

"You okay?" he asks in concern.

"Fine," Liesel lies, "just wondering if my parents will ask you to stay. You don't have to if you don't want to, I know you have to get home," she babbles.

"I can stay for some coffee if they ask, if you want me to. I don't think they will," Max says honestly. While Hans and Rosa had been unfailingly kind, the latter had given him shrewd looks from time to time at dinner. He was in no hurry to be under her scrutiny again.

Liesel nods absentmindedly. She doesn't think they will, either. Hans might want to but Rosa would insist on letting him get on his way home.

They drive through Himmel, where the streets are deserted and the trees are bare. The sky is a gloomy gray and the lamp posts will be on in a few hours. The only sign of activity is at the large grocery store where people purchase last minutes ingredients for Thanskgiving dinner, or, if their cooking didn't go as planned, a pre-made dinner.

The car pulls into Liesel's street, then stops at the sidewalk in front of the Hubermann's residence. Liesel's eyes widen when she sees the driveway full. Trudy and Hans Jr. had made it home for Thanksgiving, after all.

Max lets go of her hand and places a hand on her shoulder upon sensing her tension.

"Ready to go in?" he asks.

She shakes her head. She's not ready to go in and face a barrage of questions from her adopted siblings and their spouses, and to have to entertain her nieces and nephew. She sends a panicked look to Max and he places both hands on her shoulders.

"Liesel," he says quietly, "how can I help?"

"Don't leave me alone," she says, voice cracking.

Liesel has always been a solitary creature. She can handle all the Hubermanns fine, but she expects some warning. It's too much, too fast.

"I'll go in with you. You'll be okay," Max says soothingly.

Liesel nods, and Max unthinkingly presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Max," Liesel breathes out.

She unfastens her seatbelt and hugs him. He hugs back. Both are unaware of the eyes watching from the upstairs window.

After a few moments they untangle themselves from each other, and Max gets out of the car to open Liesel's door and get her suitcase from the trunk. Liesel bites her lip in an attempt to keep from smiling at his thoughtfulness.

Before she can even open the door it swings open with a cry of "AUNTIE LIESEL".

"Rosie!" Liesel braces herself with a wide grin (a false grin, Max thinks), and bends down to scoop up the little brunette girl with large blue eyes.

"Who's that?" the girl, Rosie, asks curiously.

"This is my friend, Max. He gave me a ride home," Liesel answers easily, sending a quick glance to Max.

"Hiya Mr. Max," she says brightly.

Liesel carries her past the foyer and towards the living room, where she's greeted by Hans, Hans. Jr, his wife Lorraine, Trudy's husband Stephen, Rosie's sister Lucy, and Hans Jr's kids Will, Bara, and Sophie.

"I think this belongs to you," she says by way of greeting, dropping Rosie next to Stephen.

"Aunt Liesel!" the kids swarm around her, and she smiles at them.

Hans looks at her worriedly when he sees the flash of distress in her eyes. He should have told her that the family would all be together but they came unexpectedly and he and Rosa had to hustle to the market to buy more food.

He walks over to Liesel and puts a hand on her shoulder, effectively getting the kids to shoo back to whatever game they were playing in the living room on the wii.

She smiles at him weakly and when Hans gives her a hug she whispers that Max is in the foyer.

"I'll get your bag," Hans says, leading her back to where Max waits patiently, hands in pocket.

"Professor Vandenberg, Happy Thanksgiving," Hans greets, "thank you so much for driving Liesel."

"Himmel's on the way so it's no problem. Better than driving alone, or taking the train," Max says.

"Would you like to stay for some coffee?" Hans asks.

Liesel looks at Max with wide eyes, and he looks at her uncertainly. She wants him by her side, but she doesn't want to subject him to her family just yet. She shakes her head so inconspicuously only Max catches it.

"Thank you, but I should get going. I have to get home as soon as possible to help my mom," Max says apologetically.

"Well, tell her we all wish her a happy Thanksgiving," Hans says.

"Happy Thanksgiving Mr. Hubermann. Liesel," he turns to her and smiles.

She smiles back and he waves before he walks through the door. She walks forward to the door and watches him get into his car. He waves once more and she waves back. Once the car is out of sight she leans against the door frame and bites her lip. She feels tears prick at her eyes, but it's stupid of her. She'll see him in a week. Possibly less than that, if he agrees to drive her back to school.

She finally steps away from the door and closes it. She turns around to see Hans waiting by the staircase, a knowing look on his face.

"Care to share with the class?" he asks teasingly.

Liesel shakes her head, "There's nothing to share."

Hans decides not to laugh at her and instead takes her bags upstairs. She'd share if she found it worth sharing.

He informs her that her older siblings would be staying the night. Hans Jr. and Lorraine would be in his old room with young Will, who is barely two years old. Trudy and Stephen would be in her old room that now housed Rosa's sewing supplies and swaths of cloth. Rosie, Lucy, Sophie, and Bara would be sleeping in Liesel's room for the night. There's a spare bed set up, the girls cans share. Liesel doesn't mind sleeping on a mattress, but little Rosie always ends up tucked next to her, Lucy never far behind.

Bara thinks she's too old for sharing a bed with her sister at twelve, and Sophie, eight, is beginning to agree. They enjoy their trips to their grandparents' house, and are even more delighted when Liesel is home and not away at university. Bara looks up to Liesel, even going so far as pilfering her old books. Liesel doesn't mind. She rather Bara steal books from her than join a gang or something like that. She needn't steal, though, since she'd happily let her have whichever one from her collection (except for her absolute favorites—the ones she's read and re-read, the ones with worn pages and torn covers).

Liesel follows Hans to her room and sits down on her bed, head in hands. She needs to collect herself before going back down. It's a day with her family. She should be happy. But her chest still aches for mom and Werner and she cried on Max not even two hours ago. She'll put on a happy face for the kids, for her parents.

Hans looks at her after he's set her suitcase and bag down next to her desk. He gives her a smile, soft and a bit sad. He knows it's hard for her before she's comfortable around so many people, even if they are technically family.

"Your mother and sister need help with the pie," Hans offers light-heartedly.

"Pumpkin?" Liesel perks up a bit.

"What else?" Hans grins.

Liesel smiles back, "Can't keep the pie waiting, can I?"

* * *

The kids are playing outside, jumping in the leaves and throwing them at each other. Lorraine is inside with Will (she insists it's too chilly out for him). Hans and Hans Jr. went to the grocery store since they had forgotten all about the cranberry sauce. Stephen is in Trudy's old room, working on his laptop despite it being a holiday. Rosa is inside, watching the kids from the kitchen window. Liesel sits on the porch swing, curled up with a book.

The screen door slides and Trudy stands there, just looking.

"Who dropped you off, kid?" she asks conversationally.

"My friend," Liesel says, slightly startled.

"Her booooyfriend," Rosie screeches from where Sophie is chasing her.

"No way, Rudy?" Bara asks, grinning widely.

She'd met Rudy once during winter holidays last winter.

"No, not Rudy," Liesel frowns at the suggestion, "and he's not my boyfriend."

Trudy purses her lips and crosses her arms. Liesel recognizes it as the "big sister" pose.

"He looked older than you," she says.

"You saw him?" Liesel asks. Her heartbeat quickens.

"From a distance," Trudy says.

Liesel regards her with a cool look, and Trudy wonders when she'd grown up. It's like she'd missed it all. Sometimes she forgets Liesel's not the slip of a child her parents had brought home one day. She's been distant with the girl, afraid to grow too attached. She had been a new college student when Liesel joined the family so at least she has a reason she had been distant from the girl. She thought it had been her parents' empty next syndrome that drove them to take in foster kids. She can see her parents love Liesel like she's one of their own, perhaps even more than they love her and Hans, if she's being honest with herself. Liesel is quiet, Liesel is kind, Liesel is meek. Or so she thought.

"He's my friend. Do you have a problem with that?" Liesel asks in a tone similar to Rosa's.

She saw him kiss her on the forehead, saw the hug. She's worried about an older man taking advantage of Liesel. But the look she gives her is fierce, and shocking from the usually timid girl. Trudy begins to think that quiet doesn't always equate to meekness. She was wrong about this one. She's more wolf than sheep, and

"Not at all," Trudy says. He's older than her.

Liesel nods, and turns back to her book, "Not that it'd matter if you did," she mumbles under her breath.

* * *

**Please, please tell me what you think! Thank you for reading! **


	7. Chapter 7

**As promised, another update a week later! I'm posting this before heading off to class which is something I never usually do, but I have a busy few days ahead of me so I thought to update asap. This chapter delves into a bit of Liesel's home life.  
**

* * *

Thanksgiving is a boisterous affair this year. The girls babble loudly about school and interrogate Liesel on what university is like. Will asks Lorraine for more mashed 'taters', the adults make small-talk about work and the weather and boring things.

"Any new books you've read recently?" Lorraine asks Liesel, who's sitting across from her.

"Dead Souls, it's not new, but it is to me," Liesel says with a small smile.

"I read that in college, too," she smiles at her, "is it for English?"

"Just for fun," Liesel answers.

Lorraine nods in understanding. She used to read a lot, then she started university, met Hans, got a job, got married, had kids, kept working. Bara's big on the reading, and she thinks Liesel has a lot to do with that. She practically idolizes her aunt. She'd barely been a year old when Hans and Rosa took Liesel in. Liesel tended to keep to herself, but she was always willing to play with Bara. She looked at her with such sadness, Lorraine had to ask what had happened to leave Liesel orphaned. Her husband quietly informed her that Liesel's mother and younger brother had died in a train accident, and Lorraine's heart broke.

Liesel smiles as Will tosses a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her direction. Lorraine apologizes, and Liesel shakes her head.

"Werner used to do the same," she says. Her smile fades and she looks down at her plate.

She can tell the adults gathered at the table are sending her looks of pity. She's used to it. She wishes Max were there with her. He was sympathetic, but he didn't pity her. There's a difference and she needs that sympathy right now.

Sensing that something is wrong, Rosie pipes up.

"I'm the best drawer in my class. We're going to have a art show," the kindergartener says brightly.

"That's amazing, Rosie," Rosa smiles at her granddaughter.

"Will you all come?" Rosie asks, eyes wide.

"Of course," Hans beams at the girl.

"You too, Aunt Liesel?" she asks, ready to pout.

Liesel looks up, "When is it, kiddo?"

"Before Christmas," she answers.

Liesel bites her lip. She has final exams before Christmas. Before school's let out for the semester.

"I have exams, but I'll do my best to make it," Liesel smiles at her. If it's a few days before Christmas, she'd make it, but not the week before.

"Okay," the little girl pouts, drawing out the word. Why did Auntie Liesel have to be in school all the time?

Liesel begins to grow anxious. How is she going to study for all of her exams? She needs to maintain at least a 3.5 GPA so she can continue to have her tuition paid by a scholarship. She spends most of her free time in the library anyway. Maybe she can skip out on her weekends home until finals are over? She has all of reading week to camp out in the library to study, but it'll be full of other students. She can sense the nerves already. Maybe studying at home would work more in her favor. But the commute time…Liesel shakes her head. It's Thanksgiving, she's not going to think about studying now.

She shoves a piece of turkey in her mouth and half-listens to the conversations going on around her. She's proud of herself for not freaking out too much at having the entire family over. Perhaps she's maturing. Or, perhaps she's selfish. Here her niece is asking her to see her artwork, and all she can think about is studying. She takes another bite of food, wishing she could excuse herself and hide in her room. That would be rude, though. She can't do that on a holiday. She asks if Hans Jr. and Trudy are planning on joining them for Christmas as well.

Hans Jr. frowns, "It's Lorraine's parents' turn this year," he says.

Lorraine looks at them apologetically.

"You're welcome to join us on Boxing Day," she says.

"How very kind," Hans smiles at his daughter-in-law.

"It's our turn to see my parents," Stephen pipes up, and Trudy nods from her seat.

The girls pout.

"Can't Aunt Liesel come?" Bara asks Hans.

"No, she's coming with us!" Lucy frowns.

"I can hardly be in two places at once," Liesel says calmly, "I'll be here with mom and dad on Christmas."

_With Max_, her brain whispers. She shivers at the thought.

"Then Boxing Day we should all get together," Lorraine says with a grin.

Liesel likes Lorraine. She has straight dark brown hair and green eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles. She's always ready with a smile or a good-natured joke, and tries to make everyone feel welcome. Hans Jr. isn't as upbeat as his wife, but they make a good team.

"That's a good idea," Rosa agrees, looking to Hans and Liesel.

Hans nods, and Liesel gives a little shrug. Rosa purses her lips. She would have to speak to Liesel later to ask about her New Year's plans. It always struck her as strange that Liesel didn't want to go out with her friends, despite invitations from Rudy and Sarah and the lot of them. Maybe she'd go and have fun this year.

Dinner winds down, and everyone helps clear the table so that the pie and tea and hot chocolate can be brought out. Liesel takes small bites, trying to savor the taste. She misses home cooked meals the most. The dining hall at Molching is exceptionally good for a university cafeteria, but it's not the same. She and Sarah don't have a kitchenette in their dorm room so they can't possibly cook. They have a kettle for tea and coffee and Ramen noodles. Their dishes are plastic, and they each have one mug and one thermos that they take to class on longer days.

They're planning to get an off-campus apartment next year. Her, Sarah, and Jane would be roommates. At this point Liesel assumes Jane and Sarah would take one room, and she would take the other. At least that way they'd have a kitchen and private bathroom and wouldn't have to hear the boisterous freshman who can't control themselves each weekend. She thinks they should get on the apartment hunt soon. Maybe even after finals so they'll be set for the spring semester. She makes a mental note to send Sarah and Jane a text asking what they think of this idea.

Liesel glances at the clock and sees it's half past eight, and Lorraine and Trudy are already sending the kids to change into their pajamas. The adults are talking about the economy and the end of the recession, so she excuses takes her empty plate and half full mug of coco to the kitchen, deposits the plate in the sink, and goes to the backyard to drink the coco on the porch swing.

She runs back inside to take an oversized sweater as it's gotten chilly out. She rolls up the sleeves and makes her way back onto the porch. She sits down on the swing and enjoys the silence for a few minutes, staring into the dark.

Liesel takes her phone out and sends a mass Happy Thanksgiving text to her friends. Moments later, she gets similar ones, and finds Sarah had sent her one earlier in the evening, and that Rudy had sent a picture of the mess at his parents house with all of his siblings together. She laughs at it and informs him the entire family is currently at the Hubermanns.

Rudy: :/  
You ok?

Liesel: Yeah. No worries. Happy Thanksgiving :)

Rudy: Happy Thanksgiving!

She puts her phone away and yawns. Just twelve hours ago she was in a car with Max, stuck in traffic. She bites her lip, wondering if she should send him an email. It's not weird, is it?

Liesel pulls her phone out of her pocket again and logs into her university email. She clicks on Max's name (listed as Professor Vandenbery-History) and her fingers hover over the screen. After a moment, she writes _Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for driving me and everything._

She hits send before she has a chance to overanlayze it. She takes a few more sips of her coco. Her phone buzzes with an email alert and almost drops the mug. She calmly sets it down and picks up her phone, afraid of what he's written.

_No need to thank me. Do you feel better? _

Liesel smiles and replies that she does, in fact, feel better.

Two hours away in New Stuggart, Max Vandenberg sits in the living room of his childhood home.

_Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for driving me and everything._

He reads it over and over again before thinking of something to say. _No need to thank me. Anything for you. _No, that's not right. He backspaces. _No need to thank me. Do you feel better?_

Liesel: _I'm fine, thank you for asking. Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Max._

Max: _Happy Thanksgiving, Liesel._

Max looks up from his phone to see his mother giving him a strange look.

"A girl?" she asks, hopefully.

"A girl," Max nods. A wonderful, brilliant girl.

* * *

Liesel creeps into her bedroom nearly an hour later. She's exhausted and all she wants to do is sleep. Rosie and Lucy have already occupied her bed, but it's no matter. She takes her pajamas from her drawer and pads into the adjoining bathroom. She changes, washes her face, and brushes her teeth. She goes back into her room and slips under the covers, careful not to wake up her cousins.

She sits up for a while, scrolling through the Happy Thanksgiving wishes. She goes back to her email and reads Max's messages. She smiles to herself, places the mobile on her dresser, and tries to fall asleep.

She's woken up in the morning by Lucy and Rosie jumping around the room and Bara trying to corral them into behaving. Sophie hides under the blankets in the bed she had shared with her older sister, not willing to get ready for the day ahead just yet.

Liesel yawns and looks at the clock. Ten in the morning. She hasn't slept that long in ages.

"Morning," she says, yawning again.

Her nieces say good morning, and Rosie jumps on the bed, already dressed.

"Hurry up!" she says, "Momma says we're leaving after brunch."

"Okay, okay," Liesel tries not to laugh at her stern expression. Rosie was aptly named, she's a mini-Rosa alright.

Bara grins, then pulls the blankets off of her sister.

"Come on, Soph," she says.

"Ugh, fine," Sophie gets up, scowling.

She grabs a change of clothes from her backpack and stomps to the bathroom. Bara laughs and takes Rosie and Lucy downstairs to let Liesel get dressed in peace.

After a long brunch, the Hubermann home is empty once again except for Liesel, Rosa, and Hans.

Liesel helps Rosa clean up and tidy the house and Hans takes out the garbage. They find themselves in the living room not long after. Liesel reads Dead Souls, Rosa searches through the supermarket catalog for coupons, and Hans reads the morning paper.

It's serene and Liesel lets herself truly relax for the first time since getting home.

"Have you decided on a major, Saumensch?" Rosa asks after a few minutes.

"Literature with a communications minor," Liesel says, not taking her eyes off her book.

Rosa raises a brow, and Hans looks up from his paper.

"I think I want to go into publishing," she explains further.

Rosa nods, finding it an acceptable choice. Hans smiles, then looks back at his paper.

"I also think I'll look for a job this summer. Hopefully at the Molching Post," Liesel adds, "if not a job then an internship."

"You need time to relax, Liesel," Hansa looks at his daughter.

"I'm relaxing now," she shrugs.

"She's a grown woman," Rosa sends her husband a stern look, "she should think about getting a job."

Liesel sends Rosa an appreciative smile, and the older woman smiles back. Liesel's a hard worker. She worries less about her than she does her idiot son, that's for sure. Who knows where Hans Jr. would be if he hadn't met someone as lovely as Lorraine?

"Will you be taking the train back to school?" Hans asks.

Liesel bites her lip. She'd prefer it if Max picked her up, but that'd be asking for too much.

"I think so," she says.

It had been a coincidence that Max had found her waiting for the best yesterday. A strange fluke. _More like fate_, she thinks.

Rosa raises an eyebrow and Hans chuckles, leaving Liesel to glance between them.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," they reply simultaneously, leaving her feeling on edge.

* * *

_Do you need a ride back to campus?_

Liesel stares at the email as she's packing her suitcase. She's leaving in the morning and had been planning on taking the train. But Max sent her an email nearly an hour ago and she's still mulling it over. Should she ask him to pick her up? What would they talk about on the way? What if she was wrong and he doesn't like her the way she likes him?

She takes a deep breath and writes that yes, she does, and she'd really appreciate it. Not even five minutes later Max writes that he'll be there at nine the following morning. Liesel lets out a squeak and throws herself onto her bed. What has she gotten herself into?

* * *

**Please, please tell me what you think! The next chapter involves much more Max! Thank you for reading! **


	8. Chapter 8

**As promised, another update a week later!  
**

* * *

That's how she finds herself in a car with Max once again. It seems to be becoming a regular thing.

They speak briefly of their Thanksgivings. Max looks concerned that her entire family was sprung upon her, but she waves it off. He rants a bit about the genocide of Native Americans, how the government should finally try to atone for the atrocities it committed, and Liesel agrees. It's truly awful that nearly an entire continent of people was wiped out. The conversation turns less serious. He talks about his aunt's cooking and trying to set him up with a girl from her synagogue. Liesel tries to smile, and looks out the window.

"I told her I'm taken," Max says quietly.

"You are?" Liesel looks at him sharply, her eyes wide. Her stomach clenches. Of course he's taken. Silly little Liesel and her silly little crush.

Max bites his lip and Liesel can't help but stare.

"You tell me," he says.

Her breath catches and holy shit is this Max's way of asking her out? Why can't they talk to each other like normal people, dammit?

He's still her professor.

"No," she says before she can think things through.

The look on Max's face nearly crushes her. His eyes are downcast and his lips form a thin line. He looks like a sad puppy and she wants to take it back.

"Not yet," she clarifies, "not until I'm not in your class."

She watches his reaction. He lets out a breath and nods. Three weeks. He can handle that. In three weeks he'll be able to tell her how he really feels. He'll show her the story he's been working on. He's so much better at expressing himself through writing than aloud. He can never say the words out loud, so he writes them down. He owes her that much. No more of this dancing around each other.

His lips quirk into a slow smile, and Liesel smiles too before looking away. In three weeks she'll be able to be with him, for real. They'd still have to keep things quiet since he'd be her former professor, and she sure as hell doesn't want anyone to know. Not yet. She wants him to herself because she's selfish. Is that so wrong?

Max's hand finds hers and she grins at him.

* * *

It's the longest three weeks of her life. She throws herself fully into her schoolwork, spending all of her time in the library. She has notes upon notes upon outlines upon essays. She sometimes forgoes food only to have Rudy or Sarah bring her a sandwich from the cafeteria so she doesn't starve.

She keeps contact with Max to a minimum. He calls on her less in class, but every time his eye catches hers he lights up. It makes her giddy that just seeing her can make him have such a reaction. When she leaves he doesn't ask her to stay to talk about an assignment, but his eyes darken with something strange (lust?) as he watches her walk away.

Liesel doesn't have time to sleep. She has to study. Her lamp is on at 2am and across from her Sarah sits up in her bed and scowls.

"For the love of God, go to sleep," she huffs.

Sarah can only sleep when it's completely dark.

"I just need to review one more chapter," Liesel says pleadingly, eyes round.

She's tired. So, so tired. She's living off of books and coffee and not much else. She knows she's lost some weight. She's slim to begin with, but the stress of exams have diminished her appetite and her clothes are loose, hanging off her frame. Rosa will have a fine time feeding her once she gets back home.

"No, Liesel. Sleep," Sarah says firmly.

She looks at her dorm mate with concern. Liesel has bags under her eyes and she's pretty sure the only thing she's eaten all day is the waffle Sarah practically shoved at her when she forced her to join her and Jane in the cafeteria for breakfast. Exams start in two days and sure, she's stressed, but Liesel takes it to a whole new level. She's spent all of reading week cooped up in the library going over her meticulous notes and writing outline after outline, using flashcard after flashcard. If she doesn't start eating and sleeping she's going to get sick. The least she can do is take some vitamins.

Liesel grunts and turns her lamp off, and flops down onto her bed.

"Finally," Sarah sighs in triumph.

"Good night," Liesel says tensely.

"Night, Liesel," Sarah says quietly.

* * *

The feeling after finishing every exam is indescribable. Liesel is on air for a few moments before the worry of her grades sets in. Sarah doesn't let her worry, and they head out for post-exam celebratory dinner and drinks.

It's cold out with snow settled on the ground. Liesel sits in a blue dress with cap sleeves, tights keeping her legs warm. Dinner had been good, nice and greasy with burgers and fries. She'd eaten ravenously, earning chuckles from Rudy who had been as worried as Sarah about her break from food (meal times were times she can spend studying, after all).

"You look like you're getting back to normal," Rudy says, patting her on the shoulder.

"Thanks, I think," she smiles at him.

He's a few drinks in, they all are. Liesel's had two Long Island Iced Teas and she can feel herself getting woozy. One's enough to knock her down so why she had two, she has no idea. She's a few months shy of being legal drinking age, but she rarely drinks and so far she hasn't been carded on the occasion that she decides to have one or two with her friends.

While they're there, their grades according to student number are posted online. Jane tells them to check their course websites and they all fall silent, taking out their phones to check.

Liesel scrolls through her grades. A, A, A-, A, A. She lets out a sigh of relief and takes a long sip of her iced tea. Celebration, indeed!

There are a few whoops of joy from the table (some friends of Jane's or Rudy's, she's not quite sure anymore).

"To being smartasses!" Sarah raises her glass of whiskey.

"To being smartasses!" everyone repeats, lifting their glasses.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. Liesel is downright euphoric and she ends up on campus in front of Max's office.

She knocks on the door, "Max?"

She's actually surprised the door opens. It's late and she wonders what the hell he's doing there so late.

"Liesel?" Max says in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she grins at him.

She walks forward, wobbling slightly. Max catches her by the waist and she bats her eyes at him. Oh god, she's drunk.

"Clearing my office before the school closes for the holidays," Max says, gesturing to the box of old files waiting to be taken to the archives. All he had to do was sort through the files.

"Huh," Liesel says, "I'll leave you to it, then."

Before she can twist out of his grasp he tells her he's done with work. She smiles.

"I got my grades. I'm officially no longer your student," she says, not slurring her words at all.

Max gulps. This isn't how he wanted it to start. Not when she's drunk, not in his office.

"Liesel," Max says slowly.

"No, don't _Liesel_ me. Do you know I nearly drove myself crazy trying to do anything but think of you for an entire semester. The last few weeks especially?" Liesel turns on him, and steps out of his hold.

She unbuttons her gray coat and Max's breath catches when he catches sight of the cobalt blue dress that hugs her figure. She carelessly tosses her coat aside and steps towards Max, eyes wide and lips pouty.

"Liesel, you're drunk," Max says, trying to back away.

He ends up pushed against his desk, Liesel stepping between his legs. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, tugging on the wool of his sweater.

"And you're wearing too much clothes," she smirks at him.

Max's mouth goes dry. He's never seen Liesel like this. She's obviously not in her right mind. He takes her hands off of him, and kisses her wrist.

"Let me take you home, okay?" Max says softly.

Liesel's brow furrows and she bites her lip, "I don't want to go home."

"You can come with me, then. Is that okay?" he asks.

She nods and he helps her put her coat on. He puts on his own coat and they leave the office and head towards the parking lot. Max keeps his arm around Liesel to help her manoeuvre across the icy sidewalk. The cold air seems to have sobered her up some, but he can't be sure.

She's silent during the fifteen minute drive to his apartment, and she doesn't say a word as they take the elevator up to his floor. He unlocks the door and Liesel follows him inside. She unbuttons her coat once again, and Max takes it and hangs it on the coat rack next to the door. It's a small place with a bedroom, living room, bathroom, and kitchen. His walls are lined with bookshelves and where a TV would usually be, he has a desk. He uses his laptop to watch anything he might find interesting, anyways.

He puts his jacket on the coat rack and when he turns around Liesel is right in front of him, staring at him curiously. She raises a hand to his cheek and brushes it against the stubble growing there. Her thumb grazes his lips and he tilts his head to kiss her hand as he had in his car a month ago. Liesel's eyelashes flutter and she steps closer to him.

"We can't do this now, Liesel," Max says quietly.

"I'm not your student anymore," she says, "why else did you bring me to your house?"

Max gapes at her. Is that what she thinks? That he'll take advantage of her less than sober state and have his way with her?

"I brought you here because it's cold out and you're in no state to go home by yourself," Max tells her.

Liesel regards him as she processes what he's just said.

"Oh," she feels ridiculous now.

"Oh," Max repeats, smiling softly at her.

"You don't want me," she takes a step backward.

Max looks at her incredulously, brows raised.

"Of course I want you. God Liesel, if you knew how much I want you, you'd go running," Max says. His cheeks are burning up and he's glad the only light in his apartment is coming from the dim lamp on the other side of the room.

"Oh," she says again, her voice breathy.

"Oh," Max cringes a bit. She's going to want to leave now, he knows it.

"That's good to know," she says slowly. She looks like she's thinking quite hard.

She smiles, and Max smiles back.

"I'll change the sheets in my room and get you something to change in to. I'll take the couch," Max says quickly, leading her to sit on the couch while he goes into his room.

"I'll take the couch. You don't need to give up your bed," Liesel says with a small frown.

"I insist," Max calls from the hallway.

"Ever the gentleman," Liesel mumbles under her breath.

While she waits she hikes the skirt of her dress up and slips off her shoes and tights. Ah, her legs can breathe again. She rubs at her pale, previously cold legs. It's nice and warm at Max's, and she's grateful.

He returns with a stack of sheets and blankets and some clothes for Liesel. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the expanse of bare leg and promptly looks away.

"I brought you some pajamas. They're probably too big," Max says, still not looking at her.

Liesel stands and walks over to him, takes the clothes, and pecks him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Max," she says.

"You're welcome," he gulps, "bathroom's the door on the right."

Liesel nods and makes her way down the hall. He sets up the couch with his old sheets and his blanket, having used the spare set in his room for Liesel. He kicks off his shoes and sees hers on the floor. He takes them both to the shoe ladder he keeps near the door. Her low-heeled dress shoes look out of place with his, but it looks right, in a way. It looks right the same way her coat next to his looks right. His mouth tugs into a half smile and he makes his way back to the couch.

Her tights. Oh. He gingerly picks them up, barely touching them as if he'd burn his hand if he did. They're the opaque, useful for the winter. He puts them on the bottom shelf of the coffee table, sure to remind her about them later.

At that moment Liesel pads back into the living room. Her hair is mussed, the old Molching U shirt overwhelms her frame, and it looks like she had to twist the waistband of his sweatpants so that they didn't fall of.

"Can I have some water?" she asks, throat dry.

Max nods, "Of course."

He goes into the kitchen and Liesel follows, taking the glass appreciatively.

"Which one is your room?" she asks him.

He leads her back to the hallway, door on the left. She asks what the door between them is and Max tells her it's just a spare closet for random junk or out of season clothes, not that he has that much extra clothes. Liesel nods and takes a cursory look around Max's room. He fidgets next to her, wondering what she thinks of the queen sized bed and plain sheets, the dresser and the bookshelf. It's pretty sparse, but he doesn't like clutter in his living space. Some might say his work desk is cluttered, but he prefers to call it organized chaos.

She turns to look at him with a sleepy gaze and she stands on her toes to kiss him on the cheek once more.

"Goodnight, Max," she says.

"Goodnight, Liesel," he says, leaving the room.

Liesel carefully gets into bed, Max's bed, and sighs. The night did not go as planned, but this is better, in a way.

* * *

**So I'm going to leave it here for now. Please let me know what you think. I have a completely crazy week ahead of me so the next update might be posted in two weeks instead of one. I'll do my best to get it up next week though. Thank you for reading!**


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